Part 58

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Lyla trained her eyes on the ground as Darcy and Richie escorted her through the student parking lot. She didn't want to acknowledge the mean faces and the hateful expressions. She felt their glares like laser beams burning into her skin, down to the bone. The whispered vulgarities swarmed around her like agitated wasps.

SLUT. SKANK. TRAMP. And so much worse.

"Haters gonna hate," Richie proclaimed and wagged his finger. "Shake it off, girl."

As they approached Darcy's car, they could see crumbled cupcakes on the hood and green icing smeared on the windshield.

"Ha. F'in-Ha," Darcy yelled at no one in particular. "What a bunch of mental defectives."

"It's like we go to the arrested development school for the emotionally disabled," Richie added.

Darcy cleaned the icing from her windshield with a handful of napkins. The windshield wipers and spray removed the remains.

They got into the car.

"Worst. Day. Ever." Lyla rubbed her eyes as Darcy steered out of the parking lot.

"This too shall pass," Richie offered consolation from the back seat. "Maybe like a kidney stone, but it will pass."

"So," Darcy sighed. "Was it worth it?" Lyla didn't respond. "The fact that you even have to think about it concerns me."

"Teach me your ways, Lyla girl." Richie batted his eyelashes at her.

"Huh?"

"Well, Saturday night I saw you at Darcy's adorkable excuse for a party—"

"Forget you, Richie." Darcy glared at him in the rearview mirror.

"So how did we get from the I-see-dead-people lady losing her shit at you and Mr. Dreamy, to you getting down his throat in front of that coffee shop in a matter of days?"

"It just happened."

"You're too modest, you bewitching little vixen." 

She was too embarrassed to laugh. 

Darcy shook her head. "I still can't believe that Carissa and Jack are done. Mind officially blown."

"Mark my words," said Richie. "They'll be back together before school's out."

"I wouldn't bet on that," said Lyla.

Richie narrowed his eyes at her. "Word to the wise. High hopes and low expectations."

"No hopes and no expectations," she replied. "I'm the last person Jack wants to be with right now. Or ever."

"Au contraire, you temptress."

Lyla rolled her eyes. Darcy patted her arm and suggested, "How 'bout we change the subject?"

"I hope Carissa's new boy toy is in good shape. Revenge sex can be fierce." Richie leaned forward between the two girls. "You know what they say. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else." He laughed.

"Where do you get this stuff?" Darcy smiled.

"Read Cosmo." Richie reclined into his seat. "That shit's amazing."

Lyla could only dream of having revenge sex with Jack. She'd be lucky if he'd ever speak to her again. She ruined his life. By the end of the school day, everybody knew that Jack had received a two-week suspension for fighting. He wasn't permitted to play football, which meant he could forget about a scholarship to a big-name college.

"How much longer are you grounded?" Lyla asked.

"One more weekend, and then I'm free!" Darcy pumped her fist.

"You mean and then you're on probation," said Richie.

"True. My parents practically give me an eye exam and sniff me for alcohol and weed every time I come into the house. They're like a couple of bloodhounds." Darcy steered to the curb.

"Can you blame them?" Richie got out of the car.

"I hope I never have kids like me when I get married," Darcy sighed.

Richie pinched Lyla's cheek. "We'll get through this," he said and walked down the street toward his house.

"Well," said Darcy. "There's always homeschool."

"Not funny." Lyla sulked.

"You know, this could work out for you."

"What are you even talking about?"

"Suppose Richie is wrong and Jack and Carissa never do get back together? I'm looking at you, option number two."

"That's weapons-grade crazy. There's like a million girls ready to move in on Jack."

"Yeah, but how many of them has he kissed?"

She sank in her seat. "Why do I feel like I'm heading for a big bucket of disappointment?" 

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